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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393940">Where There Is Will</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBy2Koda/pseuds/TwoBy2Koda'>TwoBy2Koda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, Cannibalism, Cat Naps, Cuddles, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Minks (One Piece), One of these things is not like the otherrr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Insert, Slavery, Tags May Change, Torture, Unless someone wants to beta for me, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:13:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBy2Koda/pseuds/TwoBy2Koda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thousands from this world would kill to be reincarnated in their favorite anime.<br/>I wasn't so thrilled.</p><p>See, the thing they don't tell you, is that it's not all happy fun times like in all those happy pappy fanfiction.<br/>You don't just get to gallivant on to Luffy's ship with some sob story. You don't just get to be with the good guys that chance upon your small, marine-ridden island. You don't just get to live in a world you know the future of without some kind of divine punishment, and nobody is coming to save you if they don't even know you exist.</p><p>Me? I was born a slave. To one 'Saint Roswald'.<br/>I wasn't born into a dream. I was born into a nightmare.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Life doesn't give you lemons. It takes them, and squeezes them in your eyes.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Reincarnation with a 20-some year old mind is a bitch.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi yes hello. Much has happened in these couple months I’ve been dark. Quit engineering because I was miserable doing 6 pages of math per problem, took up art and have been swamped with deadlines. I realized past me started this story with enough plot holes to call it swiss cheese in the first chapter alone so ahem….REWORK. Thanks all of you who have been so patient with me. Some things in this story are going to be changed to have a little more or less impact so that the MC isn’t stupidly overly competent and functionally un-traumatized like before. Hopefully you still like it.<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a pressure in the wood-walled room that caused cold sweat to drip past Disco’s brow as he prostrated himself to the figure seated before him, nearly tripping over his long purple robe in his panic.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! It is truly an unparalleled honor to make your acquaintance as always, Divine Saint Rosward. Could I interest you in some tea, perhaps?” Disco glanced up, gesturing to the empty table as he spoke. Scowling, the world noble cocked his head in a show of disinterest and waved the offer off.</p><p> </p><p>“How noisy. I did not come here to waste my time, runt. Get to the point before I find using you for target practice a more worth my time.” The scowl turned up in a grin as Roswald patted the gun in his belt, effectively intimidating the anxious owner of the auction house. Disco quickly straightened his kneeling form, his hat nearly falling off at the motion.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, of course, your illustriousness! If I may~” He rubbed his hands together expectantly with a dark grin. “Some of the merchandise had been causing a bit of trouble as of late, making for some rather unhappy customers, you see. I imagine with a more prominent…presence of force, things would be more inclined to stay in line?” he turned, putting his hands behind his back. “With all due respect, your patronage means a great deal to us, and we were hoping you would bless us with some stronger personnel to ensure your experiences in the future are just as enjoyable. You will be compensated of course!” Disco hurriedly procured a document from his robes, sensing the noble’s growing impatience.</p><p> </p><p>“Would any one of these be…acceptable repayment?”</p><p> </p><p>Saint Roswald’s glare receded and he raised an eyebrow, stroking the end of his manicured moustache as he read over the paper. Disco’s grin widened at the manic glint in his favorite customer’s eye, knowing exactly what the celestial dragon wanted when his annoyed expression morphed to one of malicious glee. </p><p> </p><p>“Well I’ll be damned…hehe…haha<i>HAHAHAHA!</i> You will have your men. I’ll take <b>this one.</b>” </p><p> </p><p>“Excellent choice, sir noble. I’ll prepare her for transport right away” Disco bowed again before exiting the room, very pleased with the transaction.</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>I’d never been much of a “crier.” But that day, I’d never forget so long as I lived.</p><p> </p><p>I woke up restricted, shivering at the temperature. Why was it so cold? I thought little of it, dazedly accepting that my banket was probably just kicked off and I’d gotten tangled up in my sheets. Not exactly an uncommon occurrence. I did feel uncharacteristically weak though. I didn’t ever really get sick, but I felt much weaker than normal. Sick leave it was.</p><p> </p><p>Groaning, I attempted to squirm my way out of confinement to grab my phone and call in to work sick, but found myself totally trapped, and tired out rapidly. Seriously, using this much effort to wake up in the morning should be illegal. After my third attempt at escape, I figured I could just explain my absence later and take the verbal lashing, as annoying as it would be. Content with my little rebellion, my mind quickly fell back into a deep slumber.</p><p> </p><p>The next time I awoke, I had a bit more awareness. I recalled my restriction in a daze and eventually, forced my hands upward, only to find the same overwhelming resistance as before. Growling, I opened my eyes at last to find out why I was so tangled.</p><p> </p><p>It was a dizzying, headache-inducing, and very blurry wash of grey. Even after blinking multiple times to clear my sight, my vision remained cloudy. I sighed.</p><p> </p><p>‘Stupid morning…stupid sickness…stupid jobs…wish I could just stay in bed all day but nooo…I have to be a responsible adult and cook for myself.’</p><p> </p><p>My mental mini-rant and stomach gnawing with hunger finally gave me the will to thrash about and free myself from the confines of my sheets…except…</p><p> </p><p>I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t turn over no matter how hard I tried. I could barely even lift my head.</p><p> </p><p>‘What the hell?’</p><p> </p><p>A small part of me froze, and started panicking. That wasn’t normal. I didn’t feel sick at all, but I had NO control over my body. Breify, I wondered if I was just still weak from being sick, but if it was really that bad, I needed a hospital. Pronto. Except I lived alone and couldn’t even reach my phone. I was totally helpless. I would probably die alone and nobody would know. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes and I instinctually began to call out for help-</p><p> </p><p>‘help…HELP! SOMEBODY!’</p><p>“nnNGAAABAAA!”</p><p> </p><p>-Only to be shocked silent at the sound I produced. High pitched, shrill, and senseless. Even my voice was gone too!? My efforts redoubled to try and move, scream loud enough to get a neighbor to call the police, something, anything-</p><p> </p><p>"nnnnnga! aaaa~....kuuuh? WAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”</p><p> </p><p>The power of my lungs hurt my own ears, but the stinging in them was ignored. Somebody HAD to hear the ruckus, they would call someone. Luckily, my savior seemed to arrive quickly. Too quickly.</p><p> </p><p>I was lifted by a pair of what felt like startlingly massive hands. My brain began working overtime after registering what I heard next.</p><p> </p><p>“Sh-sh-sh I’m here kit. Please, don’t cry. Sh-sh-sh. You’re safe with me little Mercury.” A woman’s voice soothed quietly. She began humming an unfamiliar tune when I appeared to calm down, rocking me in her arms.</p><p> </p><p>‘…ok what the ACTUAL <b>FUCK!?</b>’</p><p> </p><p>I whimpered as the insane giant lady continued hushing me, processing the situation. I didn’t know her at all or who she was referring to. Maybe it was like one of those horror stories where the insane lady thought I was her dead kid. Kit? little Mercury? that wasn’t my name, I was-…..I was….</p><p> </p><p>Who was I?</p><p> </p><p>Where was I?</p><p> </p><p>WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!?</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no-no-no honey!” Crazy lady stopped humming. “No….shit….please quiet down. I’m not going to let them hurt you…oh…what can I do-” The lady seemed to be panicking too. Good. Serves her right for kidnapping me and drugging me...though, I did feel bad for her. She was obviously reliving something horrible and was totally out of it. But mental or not, I wanted to be back home. SOMEONE had to hear me, right? Had anyone called the cops yet?</p><p> </p><p>A thundering in the background made itself known. Thank god! Someone was coming to-</p><p> </p><p>“Impudent scum! Keep that filth quiet or I’ll personally make sure it is silenced. Permanently!” A man’s voice rang in my ears, the horribly loud and snobbish noise wracking through my head with stabbing pain that was amplified by the headache I’d gotten in my tantrum. A quiet whine slipped out. I could have sworn there was a snap.</p><p> </p><p>“It still wants to defy me? I’ll teach it to obey to a Celestial Dragon as it should like the peasant it is.” The crazy woman squeezed me tighter. I felt her turn around and drop, hunched over me protectively.</p><p> </p><p>“Master please, no! She is only an infant; I’ll keep her quiet so I beg you, don’t touch her!” Crazy lady was starting to sound like the saner of the two…I was suddenly not sure about wanting to be rescued right now. Though what they said finally caught up to me. Celestial Dragon? Infant? These people really were <i>batshit</i> weren’t they?</p><p>“You think I care!? It was so loud it interrupted our beauty sleep from all the way across the castle! Would you take her place and be punished instead!?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Anything, just don’t hurt my daughter please! She is just a baby and couldn’t possibly understand your greatness!”</p><p> </p><p>I feared for the woman. I may not have been her daughter, but she seemed nice enough, and she was going to be hurt because of me…she hadn’t even done anything to deserve this, how could he be so cruel? Anger boiled in my chest, countering the cold drop in my stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“…Very well then.”</p><p> </p><p>I heard a sharp crack behind the woman. I felt her tense harden as she clutched me almost painfully. Another crack and she winced. Crack-pained gasp, Crack-whimper. I finally understood what was happening.</p><p> </p><p>‘no….NO!’</p><p> </p><p>“NNAAH!”</p><p> </p><p>“Grr…I told you to QUIET IT WENCH! One extra lash for each peep!” From then on, I bit my tongue to keep quiet, finding it difficult, but still struggled, trying to worm my way out of my bindings to protect the woman who shielded me. She only clutched tighter. Crack…-a cry at last. Again, and again, and again, until I could smell the air thick with copper. Helplessly, I was still, quiet, and horrified as my captor took lash after lash, so many more than would be warranted for a mere cry. The woman sobbed over me, her tears dripping hot onto my cheeks. I finally registered the blurry face of my protector.</p><p> </p><p>Crack- Each cry, her head threw back to reveal grey skin, her eyes clenched shut surrounded by thick rings of jet black.<br/>
Crack- Each grimace revealed sharp teeth on an abnormally long…muzzle?<br/>
Crack- A coal black eye would open every once in a while, to make sure I was still there and unharmed.<br/>
Crack- between lashes, she would smile weakly, trying to put on a brave front.<br/>
Crack- sweat dripped down her face, but overall, she was actually quite pretty, in a bizarre way.</p><p> </p><p>Crack-Crack-Crack-…It went on, the smell of copper overwhelming me. I could only let tears go quietly for fear of her punishment being even longer. She looked exhausted. Finally, we locked eyes. She whispered in pain.</p><p> </p><p>“My little kit…. I love you. I am only glad…you are safe.” </p><p> </p><p>“I SAID QUIET!” <b>CRACK!</b> </p><p> </p><p>I was dropped suddenly, a choking noise replacing the soothing whispers. Warmth splattered over me, making me realize how cold it was suddenly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>blood…it was hers, wasn’t it?</i>
</p><p> </p><p>The evil man laughed, seeing his victim collapse beside me. I worried that it was a fatal final blow.</p><p> </p><p>“Tch, seems like you filthy mortals have learned your places for now. I have to get someone to wash this dirty animal’s blood off me now before the stains set in, so I’ll allow you to live today. I won’t be as forgiving the next time around.” With one final strike, he left her curled up form seizing in the middle of the room.</p><p> </p><p>Two hundred and eighty-four lashes. She had taken two hundred and eighty strikes in my place. As I helplessly watched her form writhe in perpetual torment, nothing else mattered. I was sad, awed, terrified, and confused, and above all, so very angry. So infuriated that red and black were creeping in to my tunnel vision, blood searing through my veins as it boiled, and hearing deafened as the phantom sound of ‘mother’s’ last words echoed.</p><p> </p><p>“My little kit…I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>It hurt that even my own mother didn’t bother to care for me that much…maybe…if we escaped, we could be friends…if she survived…</p><p> </p><p>But I vowed that we would make it out of here if she did. She wouldn’t have to be hurt like this anymore. Nobody deserved this. Whoever that man was, he was a monster. One day, we would escape and I was going to make his life <b>hell</b></p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>My helpless state lasted for months. A doctor had come in after the horrible man had left, prompting me to reel at the weirdness again. A doctor was willing to deal with a man like that? What had I gotten into!? But still, I was grateful as whatever he seemed to do allowed her to move again, albeit with difficulty and pain no doubt. I was scooped back up into the giant warm arms from before, but not a word was spoken after that. At all. For months.</p><p> </p><p>I was starving. After my stomach finally got too painful to ignore, I found myself embarrassingly suckling on a warm chest. I was mortified…but…honestly, I wasn’t thinking by that point. It was instinctive and I remember little of it. Out of respect, I closed my eyes and reluctantly…breast fed from this woman. She must have lost her kid recently too, poor woman. She was still…well…</p><p> </p><p>It really was like I was an infant again. I could barely move, let alone uh…control my own bowels. But she took care of me. Not once judging me in my humiliation. I’d only ever heard her speak that one time, but as the days passed, I realized something weird.</p><p> </p><p>She could purr.</p><p> </p><p>The first time she had purred, I jerked a bit in surprise, catching myself before instincts could make me react. She had stopped and tensed in distress. It was incredibly similar to a cat purring albeit rougher and slightly off in some way. Really bizarre. Still, her being tense made me uncomfortable, and in an effort to calm her, I started purring back without thinking.</p><p> </p><p>‘Ok…at this point I shouldn’t be surprised, but still…WHAT THE HELL!?’</p><p> </p><p>I wasn’t aware that humans, let alone myself, were able to purr this naturally!? Though, it seemed to make her happy…so I continued it. Beyond the initial shock, it was actually kind of nice. It was calming, grounding, and connecting in a way. Sometimes when I would get restless, she would grab my hand softly and put it to her chest for me to feel the vibrations. I’d do the same when I could feel her distress. Sometimes it was a lullaby. Sometimes it was a question. It became our communication.</p><p>I was steadily getting stronger, and with my growth, I was beginning to see that maybe, I was the insane one…because me being an infant suddenly made a lot more sense. When my vision finally fixed itself, everything made a lot more sense really. When I could finally sit up, I saw that my hands were a lot smaller, and chubbier, and so were my legs. This definitely wasn’t my body. This was the body of “Mercury.”</p><p> </p><p>At least it made me feel slightly bit better about the…other circumstances.</p><p> </p><p>Mercury’s mom was weird. Like, really weird. Area 51, Alice in Wonderland weird. Or I was insane, because those triangular ears flicking on her head and the protruding muzzle-like jaw were way too realistic to be either fake or surgery. Also, the raccoon tail that actually moved and was attached. So she was part raccoon, which made the eye markings make a lot more sense. Briefly, I wondered if <i>they</i> did this to her. The thought raised my hair on end.</p><p> </p><p>Which was another thing. Apparently, I had ears too. Not the normal kind, the cat kind. And a tail. And all the heightened senses were immensely disorienting. “Mercury” really was probably her daughter, though how you get a cat from a raccoon, I have no clue. My hair…where she had frizzy black locks, I had fluffy-soft Strawberry blond from what I could see. I had no mirror to really judge my appearance, but I was still curious as to how exactly I got my coloring…</p><p> </p><p>It was all so unreal to me, but I had time.</p><p> </p><p>Time to mull over things comes aplenty when all you could do was eat and crap yourself. I realized, there wasn’t a way for me to go back to the life I was living, not when I barely even remembered much about it, which was a week-long existential crisis on its own. It became easier to accept what I couldn’t go back to when I forgot what there was for me, even my name, like I was meant to start anew. I recalled little, but what I did was discouraging. A dull life, distant parents, no friends to speak of, did I want to return to that life? And how had I even, well…ended? How did I become ‘Mercury’?</p><p> </p><p>At the very least, I wanted to get mom out of here….mom…</p><p> </p><p>I figured at this point, she had more than earned the title, though I only ever called her that mentally.</p><p> </p><p>The horrible man hadn’t been back since that day, though sometimes, mom left and would come back with his familiar smell among others. Rotten eggs and a familiar…erotic musk that she would try to cover with a potent perfume. I wasn’t an idiot…I’d figured by now we were slaves to that monster, I just worried every time she left would be the last I saw her…I would often bury my face in her fur to block them out and get to her naturally addictive woodsy scent when she got back despite the headache the smells gave me, hiding my relieved tears and pushing down my disgust. I could never be disgusted by her. I’d take the headache over thinking about what she actually does to keep me safe any day.</p><p> </p><p>I may have also developed a degree of separation anxiety. Any time she was back, I was practically glued to her side.</p><p> </p><p>Neither of us had spoken since that day. Though, where I was silent out of fear, I learned that the final would he had inflicted had taken her speech from her. A deep gray marred her neck, carved into her skin. Her back was littered with similar marks from the flogging. Her gray ‘fur’ would never return in those areas.</p><p> </p><p>By now, I was pretty sure I wasn’t insane. I was also pretty sure I’d been reborn into a new universe entirely. Which, ironically, was easier to accept than everything before. What’s to say that in this new universe, animals other than apes were the ones to achieve sapience? Heck, even the physics rules could be different. I doubted anything could surprise me at this point. Considering this, I began to find my catlike nature quite curious.</p><p> </p><p>The feeling of Mom’s claws running through my downy hair while grooming was absolutely heavenly. The uh…’bathing’ was less appreciated though.</p><p> </p><p>I couldn’t really do anything about it…but seeing her smile was enough.</p><p>My dignity was a small price to pay to see her smile so genuinely.</p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>I got older, and stronger, and the day I finally walked, I may have done a giddy little bounce that mom smiled at, though she ended up looking forlornly at me after.</p><p> </p><p>So far, I was still young enough to not get put to work just yet. Being born in to slavery as opposed to being roped into it, I was allowed time to grow and learn the bare minimum of things. Seeing that I was growing up, mom wouldn’t be able to protect me from<i>them</i> much longer…Her look returned fiercely. I remember being startled at the newfound fire in her eyes, though it proved to be one of the best parts of her yet.</p><p> </p><p>She started teaching me.</p><p> </p><p>I hid my ‘fast development’ but something in her eyes told me she knew it was a front, though I could tell she was relieved that I could hide it so well, making sure we wouldn’t be separated early on account of me being a “prodigy”. Then the day came where she taught me to write.</p><p> </p><p>Mom was an excellent artist.</p><p> </p><p>My baby-motor-control resulted in horrible chicken scratch for her writing, but she would teach me what words where what by making her own flash cards from squirreled away parchment. She would mouth the word on the card and so on, ensuring that I “understood” speech. I was just glad I finally had a way to communicate with her beyond our little purring sessions, even if it was limited.</p><p> </p><p>Again, time seemed plentiful. When mom would leave for her duties, I found myself practicing writing on my own by retelling the basic fairy tales I remembered, at least the common-sense ones, sometimes making things up when I ran out of material. Sometimes drawing, hoping that I could be as good as she was once. And bless that woman, I never seemed to run out of paper or ink….</p><p> </p><p>All of the ‘books’ were squirreled away under the bed, and mom would often read them while purring me to sleep, giving chuffs of praise and the occasional dramatic gasp when she ran into a plot twist, making a show of burying her face in the pages. My tail would twitch with glee as I watched her reactions, knowing that she was enjoying herself and boosting my ego a bit. She deserved it for all she went through…it was the least I could do.</p><p> </p><p>I fantasized that maybe one day, when we finally got out of here, we could open up a library to sustain ourselves, somewhere obscure and untouchable. One day, we would be free.</p><p> </p><p>…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………</p><p> </p><p>Two years of retelling and making up stories, and the memory unlocked like a bus hit me.</p><p> </p><p>Before, I’d never so much as thought about it, but suddenly it was so familiar. The animal features, the ‘celestial dragon’…</p><p> </p><p>‘Didn’t Luffy punch a celestial dragon?’</p><p>It was the first name I’d remembered from a story. Clear as day. The rest had a fog over them, so often I never referred to them by name, or made up names though they still felt wrong. But Luffy? Luffy felt right.</p><p> </p><p>Curious, I began the story, only writing what I could recall as it popped up in my head. Names appeared. Places had names, people had names, and there was even a race of animal people called Minks! I was amazed, finding the newfound story, encouraging, and above all, enlightening. It all made sense. Kind of. I could only recall small things, like some of it was being held back. I knew all these people, felt that I knew who they were, but I couldn’t remember their stories. </p><p> </p><p>I had been reborn in this world. But I had to confirm it. I was obviously some time before the story, seeing as the celestials were still in power and I had a feeling they wouldn’t be later on, but I was surprised to find that I didn’t really know. Anything that would happen. Save for a few details, the story was lost to me.</p><p> </p><p>Still, it was the most real thing that had happened to me. Mom…. mom would know. She would know the prominent people, right? I had to figure out when I was…but then mom would know about me…</p><p> </p><p>Dread suddenly settled in my stomach. I trusted the woman who had protected me with my life, but what if she didn’t think I was serious, or disowned me for not being her real kid? What if she regretted saving me because she thought I really was Mercury? Honestly…. I don’t think I could live with myself If she did…but…I loved her. Secrets…secrets would poison that relationship, make her worry, and in all likelihood, she would find out eventually so…I would have to tell her. Better now than never. The realization made my skin turn ashen.</p><p> </p><p>‘But how?’</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..<br/>
(A/N): Shortened the chapter and split it up while re-writing it. I’m trying to give ‘mom’ a more active role as it goes on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TL:DR<br/>Roswald: Lol I got a slave. Time to kill-<br/>Momma Bear: Not in mah house.<br/>OC: *angry baby noises*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One in a Million</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Graphic death by a thousand tazers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p>*Mercury*</p><p> </p><p>The name imprinted on the page intimidated me. I was a ball of nerves waiting for mom to get back. A thousand what if’s streamed through my mind, whispering promises of the worst. But this, it was just a name…</p><p> </p><p>One that I hadn’t been called since that day.</p><p> </p><p>One that I didn’t even know if I deserved.</p><p> </p><p>Mom had given this name to her baby, but I stood in their place. Would I still be Mercury to her after this?</p><p> </p><p>I clutched the paper in my hand, wrinkling it with the pressure as I stared on, awaiting the telltale padding of mom’s shoes down the hallway to the cell. It explained everything. How I’d been aware this whole time, that somehow, I knew things about this world that I shouldn’t, that I wasn’t…the child she gave birth to…</p><p>The paper almost ripped as the footsteps got louder. Mom’s tired smile when she walked in fell in concern when she saw me. Shaking, I held out the letter and curled in on myself, desperately shielding myself from what I expected to be a shocked glare as my new life shattered around me, growing tenser each second that passed in silence. 'that's how people are. they all abandon you in the end.'</p><p> </p><p>Then I felt warmth, and the smell of the forest enveloped me. My body shook violently with repressed cries, tears wicked away by soft fur as she pressed my face into her with care.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>God I loved this woman. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Reassured by the embrace, I calmed down at last. Mom let go and set about writing her own letter, far enough away that I couldn’t see until she handed it over to me.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*For the past four years, you have been the one I’ve cared for. You were there at the beginning, you have been my company, my student, and the light of my life for all this time. Without you, I would not have been strong enough to endure. I never knew the child you speak of, for they exist as much as a stranger’s in east blue. You are my Mercury, my kit, my only daughter, and that will never change.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>My tears almost began anew. Its almost funny, how much this woman would reduce me to tears when in my last life, I was about as emotional as a cactus.</p><p> </p><p><i>“th-an…ou”</i> my voice was hoarse and weak, untrained, and unused. But I could tell I had gotten my point across. She hugged me briefly again, before going back to writing.</p><p> </p><p><i>*Mercury…soon I won’t be able to protect you like this anymore. *</i> My tail drooped as I read over her shoulder. I knew it was true. My 4th birthday was coming up. Then, I would likely be deemed suitable enough to do basic labor, since I could walk freely. My free time was coming to an end, and I knew that only pain was on the horizon.</p><p> </p><p><i>*There are things I wish to tell you. So that….in case…you know, at the very least. *</i> She took a deep breath. <i>* You are the proud daughter of Alice Von Noelle the second, and a very special man. Honestly, I’m not surprised your knowledge spans the oceans. It seems you too are destined for the blues as well.*</i></p><p> </p><p>As well? Mom had never really talked about dad…looking at her face, talking about him was bringing her no small degree of heartbreak. So he really was gone, wasn’t he…</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*You look just like him you know. You have him to thank for most of your looks, since he was human…though you retained more of my personality, you have the same look in your eyes that he did, adventurous and caring. You know, he was a writer too. Wrote under the pen name ‘Dally Grim’. Ah…I’ll never forget the day we decided on your name…*</i>
</p><p> </p><p>I was slightly shocked. I hadn’t read any literature from this new world yet, so the concept of whole new stories and that my father had been the one to write them…Mom giggled silently when she glanced at me to find my eyes sparkling with interest, tail twitching rapidly. Hearing about my father was fascinating. I could tell mom had really loved him. Hearing that he was the one to name me had me intrigued though. Seeing my staring at the last sentence, mom’s shoulders bounced in a chuckle before she sighed, becoming serious.</p><p> </p><p><i>*Little kit…understand that your name is special. Should the wrong people find out about you…well…I don’t think I need to explain that it would be disastrous. Your father was a wanted man, you see. My dearest Maul…*</i> I could smell the salt of her tears. Whining in distress, I clung to her tattered shirt as she continued writing with a shaky hand.</p><p> </p><p><i>*I promised him I’d keep you safe. I’m sorry, I haven’t been a very good mother in that regard. I got us captured. *</i> I squeezed her harder, frantically shaking my head against her side in objection. There was no way she could have known, and she was doing a great job considering the circumstances. Honestly, mom was my best friend in this place. My only contact really, since I hadn’t ever been beyond the four walls of this cell, but she was more than enough. Alice was the strongest woman I’d ever met, and the greatest mom I could have had in this new life. Mom composed herself, drawing my attention back to the page.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*You need to know. Your name, your full name, is Ark D. Mercury. You are the only daughter of Ark D. Maul who was the love of my life and a good man among pirates. Please, make sure you trust those you tell your name. *</i>
</p><p> </p><p>……</p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>I was stunned still at the revelation, my mouth felt like it dropped to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Ark. <b>D.</b>Maul. I was a D. Goddamn it.</p><p> </p><p>Mom snickered at my floored reaction, knowing that even I knew the meaning behind my title. Maul? It wasn’t a name I’d heard in the story before I think…Then again, so was Alice. So really, I changed everything. On the bright side, at least I had an <i>awesome</i> name. And dad too! I mean, Maul!? I wished I could learn everything about this new character that was introduced. What he did and how he affected the world I was supposed to know?</p><p> </p><p> At the very least, I was SO going to live up to the eccentric and possibly insane description that all D’s had. I mean, I had a head start with future knowledge to boot. My laugh was a little hysterical, but I was excited. More so than I’d ever been.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*Tell me EVERYTHING*</i>
</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>I was unsurprised to learn that Ark D. Maul was a complete badass.</p><p> </p><p>I <i>was</i> however, surprised to learn that he was also a total recluse. Introverted, calm, preferred to spend his time writing than fighting with his crew. Not exactly the type of person I’d seen Mom fancying in my head. Mom had popped a fanged grin when I asked about his crew, asking me if I really wanted to know, or if I wanted to discover it for myself. I had to accept her proposed challenge! It meant that there were still people out there that knew about him, maybe even his crew that could tell me more about him than even Mom could.</p><p> </p><p>She drew a picture of him.</p><p> </p><p>She told me I had his coloring. Strawberry blond hair and the same lightly tanned skin that made the pale pinkish fluff stand out, though his was tied back in a low braid. He looked boyish, young, though the round glasses that sat on his scarred nose gave him an air of wisdom. He was clean shaven, with a small smirk that told of mischief. This was how mom saw him…</p><p> </p><p>But dammit he looked so FAMILIAR and I don’t know why!?</p><p> </p><p>It bothered me for days before I eventually just accepted it as ‘repressed future knowledge’. I’d have to figure out the reason on my own probably.</p><p> </p><p>Turns out, ‘Dally Grim’ wrote a TON. I hadn’t actually been able to read any of his works, but mom listed out all of the books she recalled him writing and he had a respectable collection. I pleaded her to not tell me anything about them so I could read them on my own. Of course, she agreed Wholeheartedly, and wrote the list out instead. One in particular, she underlined.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">* Libera Dominique*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>Mom said he had written it for me, or rather, long before he knew I existed in anticipation. It was one of his lesser books, not many copies were published but...the title is what really got me. Lord of the Liberated? What exactly did he want to tell me? So many questions…My catlike nature was NOT helping my curiosity.</p><p> </p><p>I really do wish I could have met him…</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. Thunderstorms.</p><p> </p><p>It was the first night there had ever been a thunderstorm since my reincarnation, I didn’t even know the ‘Celestial paradise’ HAD storms. Either way, I quickly learned exactly why pets flipped the fuck out when there was a storm.</p><p> </p><p>I felt it EVERYWHERE. The static charge buzzed under my skin, my anxiety skyrocketing. We had a small window in the cell, where lightning blinded and disoriented me, my night vision had to re-adjust every time. I couldn’t see, I felt like a live wire, mom was gone, overstimulated, I panicked.</p><p> </p><p>A bright flash from the window burned my eyes even with them closed. Pain in every nerve ending. Sirens. A hospital?</p><p> </p><p>Where was I?</p><p> </p><p>My head exploded.</p><p> </p><p>Flash. Pain. Sirens. Black…It was raining…I was running to my car to get out of the rain…then-</p><p> </p><p>My car? I didn’t have a car here…My HEAD-</p><p> </p><p>WHITE. Blood had instantly been replaced by needles. The memory brought phantom pains that made me <i>screech</i>. My ears rang, then went deaf and everything froze but the <i>hurt.hurt.hurt</i>. It was constant. Throbbing. I could feel everything inside me, my spine melting, my nerves fried. I could see a halo of light. White. Black. Burning meat. Then finally, it shattered.</p><p> </p><p>A flash as I saw my body. Grey. Lifeless. Jagged red lines webbing down the pale flesh.</p><p> </p><p>A flash as the nurses frantically tried to get my heart to start again, giving up nearly immediately when they realized my <i>heart had literally exploded</i>. They called the time of death.</p><p> </p><p>A flash. I had died. By lightning.</p><p> </p><p>What are the odds?</p><p> </p><p><i>‘It HurTs!! BuRNS!! Get IT OUT!!!’</i> Claws ripped into flesh, leaving bloody trails along my forearms. I felt the phantom pains of my death hit me.</p><p> </p><p>I saw the strike, over and over. I saw my dead body in the ambulance. I felt the plasma course through my whole body all over again. And again. GET IT OUT. I smelled my burning flesh again. Heard the nurse. GET IT OUT. White hot pain. Flash. Burn. Nurse. Dead. Couldn’t breath.<b>GET. IT. OUT.</b></p><p> </p><p>Mom found me a hyperventilating bloody mess thrashing under the bed, my arms and legs slashed open in my desperate efforts to GET IT OUT, my hair stained dark after a blow from the concrete I hadn’t registered. She ran to scoop me up and held my arms away from the wounds, her purring grounding me from my adrenaline high as she held me tightly. The electricity finally died down to a dull ache. When I finally became aware again, it was to frustrated, sorry, and questioning coal black eyes. I was exhausted, limbs still twitching when I felt the jolt again. Tense, but weak, I could barely look at her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>“died…light..ng.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>And I promptly passed out.</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>‘note to self…I don’t do well with lightning’ I grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>When I awoke, it was to tightly bandaged arms and mom leaned over me, asleep with lines of worry etched into her brow. Recalling the events of the night before, I shuddered, pushing the memory out as I registered the sunshine in the room. </p><p> </p><p>‘This is going to be an issue’ I sighed, still watching mom for any signs of stirring. I began crawling my way out of the bed we shared over to run my claws through her frizzy black hair. </p><p> </p><p>‘Storms aren’t exactly uncommon in a world literally made of oceans. Lightning would be common. I couldn’t have that kind of reaction in front of anyone when it came down to it. But how exactly do I get over a fear like that?’ I mused to myself. Mom finally stirred and gave me a questioning glance, to which I nodded. She relaxed a bit, relieved that I was now ok. Not that there was much to talk about. How exactly do you talk about getting killed by lightning? I could tell she had already figured it out, so she knew what the issue was, and that I needed time to think. With a firm hug, she set about her duties.</p><p> </p><p>She exited the room for the day, leaving me to my own devices until she got back…</p><p> </p><p>Lightning…It was a weakness that could be used against me. I didn’t know exactly the context, but a few names came to mind: Dragon. Enel. Nami. Sulong. Somehow, these were associated with lightning and the fact that they were prominent in the story told me that I’d be running against my fear of lightning more than once if I really wished to change anything…</p><p> </p><p>Which was exactly what I planned on doing. You don’t just get put into another universe with future knowledge and a badass bloodline and NOT do something. I was here for a reason. You better believe I was going to make the most of it.</p><p> </p><p>But for now, with no way to control my fear, I’d just have to keep it a secret.</p><p> </p><p>I did have a few years before I had to face it after all…probably.</p><p> </p><p>Before I knew it, my fifth birthday had come.</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p>(A/N): Splitting the chapters up further woohoo. Now they are only like, 10 pages each instead of 20 and they are a bit more in depth so it doesn’t feel like it’s moving along too fast anymore. Kinda.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TL:DR<br/>Mercury: I'm your daughter<br/>Alice: Yep<br/>Mercury: I'm a D.<br/>Alice: Also yep.<br/>Mercury: I died by lightning.<br/>Alice: Wait what?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hook, line, and sinker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Graphic Torture 101. AKA: How to make sushi like an evil mastermind.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p>“Rejoice, mongrel. Today is the day you are stripped of your freedom at last~”</p><p> </p><p>My fourth birthday had come and gone with little celebration. Mom only clung tightly to me the whole night, knowing that it was one of her last days seeing me safe and unaffected by the harsh life slaves were put through.</p><p> </p><p>Roswald chuckled darkly and waved for one of his bodyguards to come forward. One went over and restrained mom, who had been wrestled off my person, while I hopelessly fought the strength of the other that had pushed me down to the cold stone floor.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*Click*</i>
</p><p> </p><p>A measured collar was latched around my neck, the loose metal weight rubbing against my skin. I didn’t claw at it, knowing what would happen if I attempted to tamper with the device. A chain was then linked to it and to the cuffs on my wrists behind my back before I was yanked up unceremoniously and led after the humming noble.</p><p> </p><p>“Good. Now then, it’s time to prepare you for my precious daughter’s birthday!” Roswald cheerfully pranced out of the room, the bodyguard heaving me in tow. I did my best to yank back and look at mom. She was doing the same with obvious despair. We locked eyes, and in a low voice, I spoke.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>“Wait for me.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>It was a promise. One day, I would get us out of here. We would be free, and I could rest at night knowing she was away from these horrible people. One day.</p><p> </p><p>I stood straight, fierce. Showing her that I would not let them break me. I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling, seeing her only child dragged away to a life she never wanted, but maybe my strength could reassure her, knowing that eventually, all would be well.</p><p> </p><p>Roswald split up from the guards, prancing down the hallway as I was led off to a side room in what I assumed was the servant’s quarters. Two other servants, dull hopelessness in their eyes set about unclothing me.</p><p> </p><p>Soundlessly, I flailed, trying to get away from them to maintain my dignity, but I ended up standing humiliated and nude in the middle of the room, doing my best to cover up. I still had the strength of a malnourished child after all.</p><p> </p><p>It was then that I got my first look at myself in the mirror. The servants took me to a washroom where they forcefully rubbed my skin as red as my face was. The mirror served as a great distraction. I saw the same coal black eyes of mom burning with determination in my reflection, encouraging me to go on. At least I got some of my looks from her.</p><p> </p><p>I allowed myself a small moment of pride when they paused at my hair, feeling its texture in awe. These servants, I realized, were deprived and they didn’t get even simple pleasures. The thought was sobering, and I figured I could let them awe at it a little longer if it brought them comfort. They were just doing their jobs. Though eventually they ended up scrubbing it down too with a heavily floral perfumed shampoo that made my eyes sting and water with its potency. They didn’t even bother to try avoiding my ears or tail, both of which ached with their treatment. Still, for this being my first real cleaning in all my years? I chose to enjoy it. It was easier than acknowledging that I was becoming a doll for Shalria of all people.</p><p> </p><p>Though my stubborn will to maintain happiness was shattered when I was led to a table and strapped down on my stomach, still naked.</p><p> </p><p>An older man in all white walked in, carrying a cart of tools and the brand that would become my damnation. His eyes were as lifeless as the others, telling me just how much he regretted his actions. I was doing my best to be strong for mom, but finally realizing the situation, my façade broke down.</p><p> </p><p>He began by cleansing the irritated skin on my shoulder blade with a sharp smelling disinfectant and shoving something into my mouth to mute my protest, then I heard the puff of gas as the brand started to heat up. I thrashed but I could barely even turn my head, and eventually clenched my eyes shut, deciding that it was probably better not to know when it was going to happen despite every muscle in my body tensed in preparation.</p><p> </p><p>Heat emanated near my shoulder blade for a second, and then, it BURNED.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>it burned. Like the whiteness, it burned. Then black.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>But it kept going. The brand pierced layers of skin as it seared into soft flesh, ensuring that the mark would never be removed so long as I lived. Despite my refusal to cry, my eyes shot wide with pain and I shrieked. When the brand was finally lifted, my screaming turned into sobs. That damned symbol of the celestial dragon slaves was forever marked on my upper right back, branding me as merchandise. Less than human. I knew it wasn’t true, but still. I was angry, more than anything. </p><p> </p><p>Gauze was plastered across the second-likely-third degree burn to protect the wound, though there was little blood since it had been cauterized. Some bitter medication was forced down my throat and I gagged at the odor. </p><p>When the man left, the servants from before came back and dressed me in simple doll-like clothes. My pleading winces did nothing to deter them as a puff-sleeved white top and dusty pink skirt were slipped on me in complement to my pale hair, which was tugged back into low pigtails that made my head ache. My back pulled each time the fabric slipped over the gauze like sandpaper, sending a jolt of pain through me with every breath. White stockings and jane-shoes adorned my feet, making it difficult to walk since I’d spent the last four years without footwear. For the finishing touch, a cat bell was clipped to my slave collar. The chains were placed back on my wrists and I was released from the table bindings to be led into yet another room, though my legs gave out on me and really, I was more dragged along.</p><p> </p><p>I barely registered being tossed on to a hard metal floor, surrounded by solid bars in my dazed state. I curled up instinctively, biting my lip to distract from my back.</p><p> </p><p>The adrenaline and it’s painkilling effects finally kicked in when I heard familiar raucous laughter enter my range. Moments later, that same smell of rotten egg made itself known alongside sour milk and dead fish. I dry heaved at the combination.</p><p> </p><p>“Tadaaa!~ You’re very own kitty cat!” Roswald sung to his daughter, who gasped in glee.</p><p> </p><p>“Ohohohoho! Wow daddy, you got me a pet! It’s so pathetic! ~” She cheered back in response. “Oh? And even better, its one of those minks! Aren’t those super rare daddy!?” Shalria bounced around in elation.</p><p> </p><p>“Only the finest for the daughter of a Celestial Dragon my dear.” He fawned. My tail writhed alongside my burning anger for my captors treating me like this. Unfortunately, the subconscious motion got the attention of the other hell spawn.</p><p> </p><p>“Ufufufu! Kitty!” The young Charlos yanked on my tail, causing me to yelp and lash out at the offender. Charlos fell back after I swiped at him, pulling my tail in close around my waist so he couldn’t try again.</p><p>“Uwaaaa!!! Daddy! The kitty tried to hurt meee!” The pathetic kid scrambled backward, though I quickly regretted my retaliation after locking eyes with the malicious glare of Roswald. Like he was just begging for me to make a mistake so he could punish me. They were truly heartless.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry my son. She just hasn’t been trained properly yet; you see. Soon enough she’ll be a cowed kitty like all the rest of them. Shalria darling, go grab some of your favorite toys. It’s time you properly learned how to train a house-pet.” Their laughter as they left once would have made me scoff but now, it was bone-chilling.</p><p> </p><p>I had a sinking feeling that this wouldn’t be the first, or the last time this happened.</p><p> </p><p>‘Can I really survive this?’</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, miraculously, the answer was yes. But not without constant agony following behind.</p><p> </p><p>Beatings were long, but far between. Enough that I could eventually recover from the last, only to find that I’d made some absurd mistake and found myself at their mercy once more.</p><p> </p><p>My back throbbed from sleeping on the cold metal floor of the cage for hours a day, only escaping my cramped new cell while heavily-chained for one of Shalria’s dress-up-sessions or tea parties, or when I was given scheduled bathroom breaks via. butler. The burn from the brand eventually healed leaving an angry red scar behind, and I could tell that there was nerve damage especially when stretching after long periods of being curled up against the metal bars. My right arm was less responsive, and I couldn’t feel anything touching the mark. </p><p> </p><p>When I wasn’t sleeping or playing ragdoll, I was in my own Mindspace, creating more stories and people to escape from the horrible reality I’d been thrust into. I really was effectively a doll with my lack of response. They gave me gruel in a dog food bowl, occasionally with some raw fish mixed in. I’d tried to rebel at first but eventually, I was so thirsty that I accepted the water bowl, followed not long after by the food bowl. The hallucinations and desperation would be sated, and then the cycle began anew.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t much different from what I’d had for years after my infant days. The fish was often rotten by the time I finally gave in and ate, but it was edible despite the appalling texture. I was often weak with fever from my poor state and the toxic food, but eventually I got used to it. I remained stubbornly silent. Not a surprise since I’m pretty sure they thought I was totally dumb. Knowing that mom couldn’t talk, they figured I wouldn’t be able to understand them either.</p><p> </p><p>Which meant I was a perfect spy.</p><p> </p><p>Mentally, I was elated at the realization. I was in the prime location to gather intel because they would just give it to me not even knowing. I figured it could be far worse. The word ‘holocaust’ briefly flashed in my mind and I shivered, despite having no context or clue what it meant. In my current position maybe, I could curry favor and be allowed an opening if they let their guard down. I was reassured by the fact that one day, when I was strong enough, I knew how to take the collars off, and I could escape to find mom and free her, then take this information to Dragon for him to use. I was no tactician, I knew. But I had to be of use, I had to believe that. For now, I would endure the treatment, my pain tolerance steadily climbing as I spent years playing the sheep among wolves.</p><p> </p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..</p><p> </p><p>My days with Shalria in comparison, weren’t so bad.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, and then that imbecile had the gall to steal MY tarts. Hm…I think we’ll try the red one next!” Shalria forgot her irritation at her brother in favor of dragging me in front of a mirror to drape a red pair of shortalls over my reflection. I was stoic as she dragged me around, whining about one thing to the next. Mentally, I was elsewhere. Getting manhandled by the ‘princess’ at least hurt much less than my time with Roswald or Charlos. Every second with them, I wondered if I could keep going through it all.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t seem to care much for other slaves or ‘training’ so to speak, for which I was grateful. Not even for her father or brother really, unless they did something for her. Honestly, she seemed lonely, and in need of a friend, so over time, I let my guard down toward her. I thought that maybe she only acted that way to please her father. I even thought maybe I could possibly convince her to swing to my side…for a time, I thought she was different from those bastards.</p><p> </p><p>“Tch, you really are such a lowlife aren’t you puss. The way you eat that filth fufufu~…” I paid her no mind, just rolling my eyes at the comment ad continuing to eat the meagre meal before me. I was used to her insults and couldn’t show that I was affected by them unless I wanted to reveal my awareness. “You know, I get your food specially ordered. Only the best for my little kitty cat.” She squealed. Her duality had me pause for a second, confused. Filth…but it was ‘only the best?’. Something was wrong with the way Shalria said it.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah…I’d love to see the look on their face~ What an idea!” She clapped. “Watching one of those disgusting things react to your dinner. Tch…’fishmen’. Just another race of disgusting bottom feeders that couldn’t possibly compare to me, a world noble. I’d imagine they are just as slimy. Oh well. There’s certainly enough of them to go about feeding you so at least they are good for something.”</p><p> </p><p>Time around me froze. My whole body flushed with ice in an instant.</p><p> </p><p>Fishmen…. all this time…</p><p>“You should be thankful. Its suuuper expensive to get a fishman-“</p><p> </p><p>All this time, I’d been eating…</p><p> </p><p>“But, because you’re my favorite kitty, you only get the best, most expensive-”</p><p> </p><p>Shalria’s words were lost to me as my mind replayed again, not wanting to believe what I’d just heard.</p><p> </p><p>Fishmen. I’d been EATING FISHMEN.</p><p> </p><p>My ears rang and bile rocketed up my throat, what little I had eaten so far ejected itself out of my stomach instantly. I crawled over to the bars of my cage and spewed undigested meat onto the floor outside. Staring at it only brought on more heaving, until I was still retching with nothing left in my stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh! Look at what you did! Aren’t kitties supposed to like fish!? You are just as bad as them. Disgusting! Someone, get in here and clean this mess!” Shalria recoiled and called out the doors. My gut hadn’t settled down any and my cage was lifted and carried out of the room by two guards. It went dark.</p><p> </p><p>Too soon, I was jerked back to consciousness.</p><p> </p><p>The grey room was familiar. The punishment room.</p><p> </p><p>I dry heaved, recalling the events that led to me being taken here.</p><p> </p><p>Months. Months I had eaten what I thought was fish. I’d known, known that they were all ruthless but…I’d thought Shalria was different from the others. In a way, she was, but she was not better.</p><p> </p><p>She was so.much.<i>WORSE.</i></p><p> </p><p>I was strung to the ceiling by my wrist cuffs, just taught enough that I had to force myself on my toe tips to keep from strangling my beaten wrists. My back still ached from the position. My ear twitched as the metal door squealed shut, signifying that my tormentor had arrived. </p><p> </p><p>“Well well well…seems you aren’t the little bitch we thought you to be!” Roswald sounded too excited. “I do wonder though, how exactly do you know what a fishman is? You can understand us wench…can’t you?” My chin was forced up by a familiar black stick, forcing me to turn my gaze up to him, but I wasn’t looking at him, no, I was still paralyzed by my actions. I’d had years to accept my circumstances, but until now it all felt like a bad dream. This made it real. Everything was real. Consequences were real.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm…yesss. There’s that look I’ve desired for so long~” Roswald hissed in pleasure. “No amount of pain I’ve inflicted has gotten quite this response. My daughter has been taught so well, maybe I’ll take a few tips from her!” Roswald laughed manically, seeing my distress.</p><p> </p><p>How many fishmen had been killed to feed me? How many had I consumed that had family, lives…How many times had I flippantly wished for something other than gruel, begging for the ‘fish’ instead?</p><p> </p><p>What if they were the ones who were supposed to be fisher-tiger’s men?</p><p> </p><p>Why had I given in? Surely, they would have changed my diet if they wanted me to live this badly.</p><p> </p><p>Why had I let my guard down? How could I have thought these people were anything other than the MONSTERS I knew them to be? How could I have gone along with them?</p><p> </p><p>My resolve was crushed. I sagged in my chains realizing that I’d become too complacent. I’d become one of the monsters.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, finally. I was wondering when you would finally break. Kept me waiting long enough, though I can’t say it wasn’t worth it.” Roswald circled my limp form.</p><p><i>CRACK</i> The first strike landed on my ribs, already I could feel the cracking begin.<br/>
<i>CRACK</i>       My head tossed back; the motion ingrained from other beatings to keep me from biting my tongue off.<br/>
<i>CRACK</i>       This time, it was warranted. I deserved this beating, didn’t I?<br/>
<i>CRACK</i>       I would never be able to face a fishman, knowing I’d…<br/>
<i>CRACK</i>       I’d been turned into a fucking cannibal.</p><p>
  <i>CK-CRACK</i>
</p><p>There was a pause.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, first broken bone finally. You are taking this awfully well. Is it because you finally realized what a pathetic waste you are? How you are nothing but an appalling demon that deserves to be beaten?” Roswald’s tone was manic.</p><p> </p><p>The strikes continued.</p><p> </p><p>“What would your poor mother say, knowing you’ve devoured those beasts? Ah, if that doesn’t absolutely crush you, I don’t know what would~” He sang his fantasies.</p><p> </p><p>Mom…</p><p> </p><p>Oh god…what would she say?</p><p> </p><p>The lashes didn’t hurt. Not when he bludgeoned my ribs to pieces, nor when he ripped off my toenails so I couldn’t keep myself lifted from the chains. My shoulders dislocated, my wrists bled, and none of it compared to the terror that the image of Mom looking at me with disgust brought.</p><p> </p><p>I was sure I looked like ground meat when they were done. But I couldn’t feel it anymore.</p><p> </p><p>The guards that released me didn’t take me back to Shalria’s room, instead dragging me through a different hallway. The same one that led to the old cell. We passed by it. I saw her.</p><p>Mom.</p><p> </p><p>They threw me in a cell across from her. I couldn’t find the strength to face her.</p><p> </p><p>There was a sharp intake of breath when she saw the state, I was in. I heard squeaking, breathy screams as she tried to get my attention. I closed my eyes, shaking my head and burying it between my knees while I held down my ears in defense. I couldn’t bear to face her now that I’d given up. I’d broken my promise. I’d never be able to leave-</p><p> </p><p>There was a rustle of paper by my head. A paper airplane flew through the bars of my cell carrying a pen and a message. It went quiet. I could feel Mom’s eyes on my back, begging me to read it and ask what happened.</p><p> </p><p>Despite everything in my mind telling me not to, slowly I got up and unfolded the parchment.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*I’m so sorry, it’s my fault you’re in here. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my failure as a mother. Please, let me help. You’ve been through so much these past couple years; I can’t bear to see you like this. You aren’t the only one. I’d do anything for you to be safe and happy. I love you more than anything. *</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Mom…did she really?</p><p> </p><p>Moving was too difficult with all the broken bones. I didn’t have the strength to send a message back. I forced myself to turn her direction, my head lolling over to look at her, but her face was shielded by her hair as she clutched the bars.</p><p> </p><p>There was nothing for a few moments. And then-</p><p> </p><p>A metallic groan. Shrill and sharp as the bars in her hands bent out. She trembled with effort, but the bars gave way under her pressure. She squeezed through them, and ran across the corridor to my cell.</p><p> </p><p>“n-no-oh” I cried. If she was found! They had to have heard that! Who knows what they would do when they found out-</p><p> </p><p>The bars of my cell distorted as they too were warped by Mom’s strength. I felt her gently lift me like she had so many times before, careful not to cause me pain-</p><p> </p><p>“WHAT’S GOING ON DOWN HERE!?” A guard had thrown open the door to the scene, only to find two of the cells mangled from mom’s rampage. When he saw the state of the metal, he shrieked and called for backup. Three more guards came running. We didn’t have time.</p><p> </p><p>“…H-hi mom. Missed yo-ou.” I cringed, feeling a twinge from one of my broken ribs. Mom nuzzled me, nodding her head in agreement. The guards from before tried to pry her arms off me, but Mom held so tight that it hurt, no matter how hard all four grown men tried to restrain her.</p><p> </p><p>“We need CP-0! Quickly!” One of the guards ran off in response. Two more went out the door to hold in incase mom decided to make a break for it. One remained, shaking as he backed up and grabbed a transponder snail from his belt.</p><p>No time.</p><p> </p><p>“Fishman…not fish…I…ate-” She growled, putting the pieces of my broken, strained speech together. I could hear the solid footsteps of boot clad feet approach.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Rob Lucci! Let him through!” The steps of well- polished boots clacked against the stone floors as a man in white made himself known.</p><p> </p><p>‘kit. You are not to blame’ a whisper blew past my ear. ‘you didn’t know. They’ll understand.’ The weak breeze was ripped away as Lucci held mom in place to my horror. Still, her words calmed me, reassuring me that I had not been abandoned in this hell, and giving me hope that we could still do this.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph. At least you were smart enough to not try escaping. Then we would have to kill you.” He caught a glance at me. “And there’s the cause. Figures. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, I believe the saying goes? Well, you know the drill.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite being restrained, her eyes sparkled at me with fire before she turned and held her fists out for the expected chains. Lucci smiled blankly with an expression that sharply contrasted the malice in his eyes. He waved the cowering marines off. They fell in line behind him, relieved that they were spared the wrath of the nobles.</p><p> </p><p>I watched as mom was taken away this time, the small note I had written palmed beneath the cuffs they slapped on her wrists. </p><p> </p><p><i>*Promise. Soon. I love you. *</i><br/>
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TL:DR<br/>Shalria: KITTY!<br/>Roswald: TORTURE!?<br/>Mercury: *barfs* its feckin RAW<br/>Shalria:....TORTURE!<br/>Alice: *turns into hulk* DONT TOUCHA DA CHILD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Es-Ca-Pay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More torture=return of momma 'coon. Grand Theft Barrel. Outrunning cliché anime troupes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My days playing ‘kitten’ had ended. Apparently my first round of ‘house training’ had been deemed ineffective, and my apparent withholding information from them was not taken lightly.</p><p> </p><p>“McGarvey tells me that you haven’t been responding much to the punishments as of late, and you refuse to eat. What do you have to say for yourself?” Roswald spoke, circling around to my front. My arms were chained and pulled up to where I was on my tip-toes again, leaving me fully exposed in front of the noble. With my determination and anger renewed, I met him with a glare that would have set him on fire if it could.</p><p> </p><p>“Feisty. I’ll have fun making you beg, filthy mortal.” My intended bravado was quickly killed when Roswald picked a weapon that looked like a blackjack from the stand, pressing a button that made it spark with electricity. His favorite ‘toy’ as of late, the sun stick. Unfortunately, he noticed my nervousness and countered it with a cruel expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Pity. Of all the things, a little shock is what breaks you? Pathetic.” I tried to back away unsuccessfully, still not in control of my phobia since it wasn't like storms happened often of this island paradise. His chuckles rose in a crescendo as he pushed forward, touching the rod to my neck, and turned it on.</p><p> </p><p>My real nightmare began.</p><p> </p><p>This time, the lashes were far, far more numerous, and accompanied by a familiar white-hot pain that buzzed throughout my entire body with each successive lash. It went on for three days. At night, I could rest as the nobles got their beauty sleep but was kept awake by some drug or byproduct of the electricity affecting my brain. When they woke, the pain began again, and I would thrash silently when the shocks were flipped on.</p><p> </p><p>White, black. Pain, numb. Hot, cold. And back again. It cycled over, and over, until my body was painted red and my skin had actually cauterized at points with the heat of the constant arcing. My toes still pulsed and stung with Charlos’ contribution of vicing my feet at some point. Blood pooled to the floor from the raw capillaries that had been exposed. This was how most of my days went now. In contrast to the feeding, nice clothes, walks, and small degree of freedom I got before the incident, my refusal to comply with them only caused me more pain. Even so, I’d rather have this than falling for their act again. Torture was something I could understand. Pain didn’t lie, or trick. It couldn’t be faked. It was despair, but it was real, and reminded me of my purpose.</p><p> </p><p>Yet with my fear of lightning thoroughly reinforced, I still stood.</p><p> </p><p>Time passes quickly when you’re in constant pain accompanied by on-and-off sickness for one reason or another. Already I was six, and my pallid skin had been scarred and burned, some nearly white with scar tissue. My limbs were marked entirely, scars and callouses on my neck and wrist where the chains would shift. I spent most of my days in the torture chamber, hung by my wrists, but every once in a while, I was thrown back into the slave dungeon. </p><p> </p><p>Sick days I would usually get thrown back in the dungeon. I was so hot, so cold, so weak I could barely move, but I forced myself to. These moments were precious, after all. I had only seen Mom once or twice since then, but each time we had been near each other, neither of us slept. We spent every hour we had together passing notes across the cells to each other, not wanting to waste a single moment.</p><p> </p><p>Despite it being the most painful time of my life so far, it proved to be the most bonding too.</p><p> </p><p>I put together whole books from the papers Mom had given me, and squirreled them away inside the thin mattress. I wrote a whole textbook on arithmetic that I could remember, agriculture, science, trapping, and other things she could use to get by if we were ever separated. Mom was…well…a mom. She made listed recipes she wanted to share with me, yanked out my first loose canine with that iconic parental sadism, snuck in my ‘first’ taste of sake (it was SO gross. She cackled at the face I made), taught me how to sew properly, and did everything she could to pack years of mothering into the limited amount of time she was allowed.</p><p> </p><p>I hardly ever thought of my past life now. Why bother to? Mom cared more about me than anyone from then did, and even through the bad, it was worth it.</p><p> </p><p>The mattress slowly bulked up as our collection grew, filling with the necessary materials for our escape. Mom taught me small muscle exercises that nobody would notice to build my strength for the break. It took a whole year, but I could at least run without collapsing from muscle atrophy. As for food…</p><p> </p><p>I didn’t want to remember. </p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*You had to. You would have died if you didn’t eat*</i>
</p><p> </p><p>It was a matter of survival…I kept telling myself. And it was, but still, I felt corrupted every time. My drive was behind the fact that the faster we were ready, the faster we could leave, and then no-one else would have to suffer because of me.</p><p> </p><p>I behaved. I smiled. I groveled at their feet. I screamed when they flogged and electrocuted me. They thought I was broken. They got careless. They started letting me out more often.</p><p> </p><p>It would be their biggest mistake.</p><p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>Sleep, I’d decided, was a wonderful thing. Unconscious to whatever torture befell my physical form, it was bliss. To come back meant to face whatever my body was inflicted with at the time. That being said, I didn’t recall anything beyond the first few days back in ‘kitten’ mode, and the few times I came to when I was thrown back in the dungeon for one reason or another.</p><p> </p><p>I’d turned myself into a little narcoleptic, coincidentally, though the electric brain-damage may have had something to do with it. The nobles were not amused when they found out about my tendency to play hide-and-seek in order to nap whenever I could. Lashings ensued. Really, it was getting boring the way everything was just demoted to the whip.</p><p> </p><p>Ten years I’d been here. Four spent a child, two spent a pet, and another four spent in absolute hell. It was winter when the deciding factor forced us to make our move.</p><p>My hair had grown into somewhat of a blanket, the fur-like strands blanketing me against the cold. I was writing up the last of the ‘future knowledge copy’ I had for mom, preparing for our prison break.</p><p>Mom finally made it in, shivering, she collapsed beside me and curled up to share our body warmth. She was crying again. Distressed, I held her close, trying to control my anger at whoever caused her to feel this way. She leaned in to my touch, then shook her head to catch my attention. She had both of us struggle to sit up against the wall. With a shudder, she took a deep breath, and led my head to lay on her lap. I hesitated, wondering why she was making me take a nap if she was upset but…Well, if it’s what she wanted …</p><p>
  <i>Ba--Dum--Ba--Dum</i>
</p><p>Her heartbeat sounded, quickly lulling me into a daze. I sank in to her, ears flicked back as she ran her furred hands between them. Her slow heartbeat was a near-match with mine. I inhaled, catching her familiar scent tinged with the forest beyond the usual heavy perfume and…what…was that…? My ears twitched in concentration. There was something…</p><p>
  <i>d-dum-d-dum-d-</i>
</p><p>I shot up, staring at the source of the new noise. Heat shot through my head, looking up to mom who nodded, confirming my suspicions. I glanced at her stomach, barely a sign to show its protrusion. It was hardly audible, but a third heartbeat had joined ours.</p><p> </p><p>A baby. More likely, a noble’s kid. My stomach dropped to my feet, overcoming the anger I had felt before, followed by the realization that our original plan would have to be carried out earlier than expected. Still…a small part of me was happy, and a larger part was even more determined to <i>succeed</i>. I’d pondered the idea of a sibling, but never wanted it to happen in these circumstances. Now, we were going to have to live for all three of us.</p><p> </p><p>“We leave tonight.” Was my adamant response. We had planned on being a little more prepared, but in hindsight this was about as good a time as any. Mom was frozen as I stood, pacing around the room. “Less likely to stop us. They can’t know. We can’t let them…eliminate.” We locked eyes. It was the only plan, since bastards were nearly always eliminated to ‘maintain a noble’s face’ along with getting rid of any ‘proof’, if we stayed any longer, they would both be killed. </p><p> </p><p>Besides. No plan survives first contact, so why bother waiting even longer?</p><p> </p><p>Mom was still in distress though, and I could guess exactly why. I pulled her face up to mine, staring in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“… They’re YOURS ok? Never HIS.” I trusted Mom to raise them right, but I couldn’t let either suffer for the idea that one was at fault and she realized that. It was Mom’s turn to look at me in admiration, her inner conflict mostly resolved by my absolute acceptance. That being said, in the final moments before sunset as we waited, the nerves of being a big sister surfaced, and my eyes shifted while I twirled my bare foot bashfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…what name?”</p><p>My bashfulness proved to be too much for mom, and she broke down into crying laughter. I could feel the red creep across my cheeks, but began to join her in giggling.</p><p> </p><p>Eight years, and I finally laughed out loud for the first time in this world.</p><p> </p><p> We gripped each other’s hands, knowing it was only a matter of hours before we would be separated for a long while. My best friend and little sibling…My forehead scrunched in contemplation.</p><p> </p><p>“…Make sure they know me, ok?” Shifting beside me and a squeeze to the hand assured me that my little sibling wouldn’t go completely clueless about my existence. I wanted to meet them one day after all. I had to be a great big sister, and get them all the souvenirs, and tell them all the stories about my adventures, and read the stories from my past life with them…</p><p> </p><p>Mom waited for me to finish my internal panic, in her hands a sheet with two blanks under multiple crossed out names. Huh, so she’d been thinking about it already too?</p><p> </p><p>Charcoal filled in the blank space left on the page. My own fair share of crossed-out names was added before I finally settled on two.</p><p>
  <i>*Boy:<span class="u">Rowan</span>  Girl:<span class="u">Riven</span>*</i>
</p><p>*snrk* Mom covered her grin and snickered. </p><p>‘Better than Mr. Pukka’ she teased in a breathy whisper, referencing the small ladybug that had made its way into our cell last summer. I accidentally squished it…and shouted out a random name in my comical mourning…I was never going to live that down, not that I wanted to. Good memories were rare in this place. I was still going to miss the time I spent with Mom.</p><p> </p><p>‘Rowan…Riven…I like them.’</p><p> </p><p>The fading glow of the setting sun alerted us that it was almost time to make our move. Hastily, we got out our knapsacks made from old clothes and began packing them with the mattress stash, saving a third to sink anything that could be found</p><p> </p><p>I made sure some of the children’s books I made got put into mom’s bag, along with a copy of the timeline in a code I’d taught her so that Mom could keep up with me and the straw-hats without compromising the future. We agreed on a time to meet up, since until then, we couldn’t have contact lest we provoke the suspicions of any nobles. Finally, we put the most recent pictures drawn of each other on top. It may have been a miniscule concern, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget what she looked like.</p><p> </p><p>By the time we had sorted everything out, the moon began shining through the bars of the cell. I was almost ready to head out when she stopped me, holding out her hands. I gasped.</p><p> </p><p>Two gold rings reflecting the moonlight lay in her paws alongside a note and slip of paper that I instantly recognized. On her left ear were fastened a matching set of piercings. I decided to read the note later and instead nearly crushed mom in a hug. She only squeezed me tighter when she felt her fur get wet with my face buried in it, petting my hair with the rings held out of the way. She nuzzled me and kissed me between the ears, pulling back with the unspoken message. We had said our goodbyes just in case. It was finally D-Day.</p><p> </p><p>‘are you ready?’ I nodded. She turned to the cell door, pulling out a couple hairpins pilfered from noble’s ridiculous hairdo’s over the years.</p><p>
  <i>Ka-click!</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Damn, Mom was a total <span class="u">Badass</span>. I mean, I knew she was ‘bends bars of steel’ badass, but this was a whole different league. She lived up to the trash-panda-ninja legacy. The sound of our cells unlocking was muffled by her paws. It was the next part that had me worried.</p><p> </p><p>“50 ticks. Ticking gets faster, so keep up. Last tick, pull pin and throw at the wall.” Mom nodded. We both took deep breaths.</p><p> </p><p>Ok….1……….2………3…..<br/>…47…48…49….CLICK!</p><p>
  <b>BOOM!</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! One of the collars must have exploded!”</p><p> </p><p>“The slaves have escaped! Quickly, after them!”</p><p> </p><p>The combined explosion of the collars blew a hole in the wall of our cell, but we ran through the halls and out the back as the marines tried to follow false shadows flitting out the hole. It was a flawless diversion. Our steps were soundless as we streaked through the night of the new moon, unseen to all. Somehow, mom shrouded us in a familiar darkness.</p><p> </p><p>Rescind the badass comment. Mom was the fucking GOAT of all Badassery.</p><p> </p><p>That shadow…She was the user of the Yami-Yami no mi. The very fruit that made Blackbeard the menace that he was. She managed to lockpick sea stone handcuffs and cell without passing out, and was running through the night like a hellhound. This could change everything!</p><p> </p><p>Mom was invisible in the darkness of the night. Even as I could hear the alarms ring out and the palace being rampaged, nobody came after us. We made it to the docks without a single person the wiser, even CP-0 was clueless, at least we hoped. Nobody had any idea that mom had the devil fruit or a baby-on-board though she lagged a little toward the end. We boarded the smallest ship at the docks, what tiny possessions we had with us dropped to the base of the boat, and I pushed it out to sea. Mom shrouded us in darkness that matched the pitch-black water. As the light of the prison that had kept us for so many years grew more distant, my hopes rose higher than they ever had. I didn’t dare tempt murphy though, not with the name of D. on my head. I wasn’t that stupid.</p><p> </p><p>The next step was an extra precaution that I thought up. Nobody would have expected it. It was a very D. plan after all, but I refused to be affected by the cliché of this world. I was NOT going to get some kind of amnesia from this crap, and I most certainly was NOT BECOMING AN ORPHAN. Grinning at our success so far, we each hopped into separate barrels we’d taken from the docks, collecting our respective knapsacks and sinking the third with all the dangerous information. We pushed our containers off the tiny boat while simultaneously sealing the barrels tops.</p><p> </p><p>It was a good thing I’d thought of it too. Seconds later and we would have found ourselves in a likeness to Sabo, but far more dead. A barrage of fire rained down on the ship we had been on, setting it alight from what I could see out of the hole in the barrel. Face beaming and heart racing, I plugged it with the cork. We had done it. They would think us dead, and even if they didn’t, they would be searching for a mother and her child together. We had to split up, but we had hope. Hah. I would no longer play by anyone’s rules. Not even the world’s. </p><p> </p><p>I was clinging to the tiny slip of paper she had given me along with the earrings, ensuring it had no changes. She had been able to hide away a Vivre card all these years, and though some of it had burned along with her vitality during torture sessions, the tiny piece I held was still pristine. We made it…the note-</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>*Thank you, for being strong, giving me strength. The rings are the forgotten symbol of the Von Noelle house, traditionally given for reaching adulthood. Just in case. I love you my kit.*</i>
</p><p> </p><p>I could barely read it though my night-vision did it’s best to compensate. I fell asleep to the rocking of the waves, nose pressed to the fabric that still smelled of fresh dirt and rain.</p><p>I was finally free at last.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TL:DR<br/>Roswald: Pain? Yes please.<br/>Alice: So you're gonna be a big sis<br/>Mercury: Well fuck...time to go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sanctuary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>New OCs new crew, Merc gets saved but is obviously paranoid. POV change for this chapter but back to Mercury POV onward till i decide to change it again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?...Hey wait a minute-” A man straightened, abandoning his task on deck to squint off in the distance. He brought his sandal clad feet up to kneel on the railing, shielding his eyes to get a better look at the disturbance. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s it now, Clemens?” another, more sullen man pinched the bridge of his nose before trying to find what had caught his friend’s attention.</p><p> </p><p>“It…looks like a barrel? Small enough to be one anyways. But there shouldn’t be any cargo ships passing through these parts! And there isn’t an island for days…” Clemens turned back. “Simon, go ahead and check it out. Something feels weird about it. Might be a person. I’ll go alert the commander just in case.” Simon arched a brow.</p><p> </p><p>“You sure you aren’t as blind as your fashion sense Clem? I can’t see or sense anything for miles.” Simon droned, causing his companion to gasp dramatically. Clemens looked down at his orange button up and shorts, examining them before turning to point at the offender.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re just jealous you have to wear itchy old man clothes all the time! Hmph! I still don’t understand how you can wear a damn tailcoat in this heat, of all things. You don’t even sweat, you monster…” The orange clad man continued his rant, storming off into the cabin to fulfill his task, leaving Simon to deal with the labor. He growled under his breath in exasperation before stretching his senses to try and find the object of Clemens’s attention. Sure enough, he felt a small ping off his mind in the direction he’d been looking before.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do I have to be the one…troublesome…it was such a calm day too.” Simon dropped his Hat, coat, and gloves, tying his slicked black hair back out of the way. “In all likelihood, it’s a trap barrel. Or a bothersome stowaway.” Despite his reluctance, Simon had to admit that he was, at the very least, intrigued. Better they check it out than some poor fisherman getting themselves into trouble. Still, he sensed no ill intent as he lowered one of the ship’s shore-boats into the choppy waters. The ship was far off in the distance by the time he caught sight of the barrel, barely a spec when he finally rowed alongside it.</p><p> </p><p>“Better be something good to make me come all the way out here….and-Uff!” Simon stumbled back a bit at the unexpected lightness of the barrel. “Well, certainly isn’t booze if it’s this light.” Shame, he could already hear the crew’s incessant whining of disappointment. </p><p> </p><p>He caught up to his ship rather quickly, hoisting the barrel onto the deck while the rest of the deck crew stood back to watch in curiosity. They had arms ready just in case, but were excited at the prospect of a party night.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it booze!? Please say it is!!”<br/>
“C’mon get it open!”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright! Shut up already! Jeez…” Slipping a dagger out of his boot, Simon pried open the barrel. With a hard blink to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, he went rigid.</p><p> </p><p>A kid, small, couldn’t be more than 6? 7? Was curled up on the floor of the barrel. The white cloth, marked with dried blood, fell loosely on their frame, showing off a tapestry of light scar tissue on every part of the uncovered skin. Disheveled hair curtained most of their face from view, and their breathing was shallow, uneven. He stepped back with wide eyes, dropping the barrel lid in shock and awe.</p><p> </p><p>“Someone get Marcy! It’s a hurt kid!” He raised his voice, a hint of panic in his usually stoic tone. One of the cabin boys jumped, speeding below deck at his order. His raised volume caused the kid to stir, Pulling Simon’s attention back to the child when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He tensed when they turned their head and went rigid, a glimpse of unfocused black eyes sharpened beneath still-heavy lids. A girl?</p><p> </p><p>She jumped up with a choked sound, tipping the barrel over and forcing Simon to step back as she scrambled back on all fours. Coal black eyes darted around in terror, eventually catching his worried gaze. Noticing how close he was, she crawled back further and...was that growling coming from her?</p><p> </p><p>Simon noted that she was leaving a dark red trail. He was deeply unsettled by her appearance. It was obvious that she had been treated poorly; a slave, from the looks of the bruised marks around her wrists. Judging by the wincing and the fresh blood, she had opened up one of her more recent wounds and desperately needed treatment. But first, he had to calm her down.</p><p> </p><p>“Kid, you’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you here. We just got you out of that barrel, ok?”  Simon spoke lowly. The growling stopped, but her scathing look held steady with his gaze, not letting him move. It dropped for a second to his hand, and he realized he still had his dagger. He let it fall to the deck, her eyes trailing after it until it clattered against the salt-stained wood. The glare shot back to him warily, untrusting but calculating. That was, until the cabin boy returned with the ship nurse. The door shutting loudly renewed her earlier panic.</p><p> </p><p>Dammit…he had been doing so well too. </p><p> </p><p>“Marcy, stop.” The ship nurse froze at the steady command, taking note of the situation. The kid’s leer flickered behind him in the standstill, reluctant to take her eyes off the immediate threat, but she fell back into her wary state seeing that the new arrival wasn’t moving.</p><p> </p><p>“Marcy is this ships nurse. She can heal you. Nobody else will come close to you, but she needs to be here to look you over and make sure you aren’t going to bleed out. I’m calling her over.” He waved Marcy over, but had her stop when the kid began growling again and coiling up to run. She made no move to stand down. At this point, Simon didn’t know what to do…knocking her out would make her lose trust in them, but Marcy couldn’t come close. Damn Clemens for getting him into this…</p><p> </p><p>“Look, kid. You’re obviously hurt. At this rate, you can either choose to be healed and we’ll take care of anything you need, or you pass out from blood loss and all that happens anyway, you’re just unconscious and helpless for it instead.” He scratched behind his head in irritation. Marcy gasped from behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“Simon! She’s a kid! Don’t be so harsh with her-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m stating the obvious. Not like we’d let her die if we could help it. Better to at least give her a choice than force her to do anything.” Marcy clammed up, biting her painted red lip because she knew it to be true. So now, it was just a waiting game. The kid had at least looked contemplative of his suggestion, but still unwilling for anybody to come close. Faltering, she cringed when her shaking legs gave out and she was forced to drop on her knees with a whimper. Simon grumbled, realizing he wasn't getting anywhere with the others still present.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s no use. All of you, get inside. Marcy, set up the med bay, and tell Clemens to bring back something easy from Berger. I’ll keep an eye on her.” The onlookers did exactly as he asked, and he fell back to sit a distance from the trembling girl. She kneeled at the ready, but looked significantly more relaxed. The silence was tense, so despite his dislike for conversation, he felt it necessary to drop her guard.</p><p> </p><p>“Berger is our cook. Clemens is the one who spotted your barrel out there. He’s going to get you something that will be light on your stomach. Probably not the best tasting thing, but no doubt better than whatever you’ve been eating-”</p><p> </p><p>
  <i> GROOOOOOWWWWLLLLL</i>
</p><p>He almost deadpanned at the sheer volume. Its source was blanched as she held her stomach. This far out? She had to have been starving for days, months even if her malnourished look was anything to go by. Her stomach had to have been practically eating itself. How the hell had she survived out in the middle of nowhere?</p><p> </p><p>“uh…but it sounds like you’ll take just about anything at this point.” Simon continued. “Eat slowly. You don’t know how much your stomach will be able to handle, and don’t keep eating if you get full. Fair warning, someone will be assigned to watch you if you keep this up, mostly to make sure that you don’t end up worse off. Kuno - one of our cabin boys - was found like you. Not nearly in as bad a shape but we learned pretty quickly how to care for a starving kid after he ended up really sick gorging on stuff he couldn’t handle.” </p><p> </p><p>At this point, Simon was rambling. The girl had sat down, paying half attention to what he was saying while inspecting herself. An orangey flash behind her caught his eye, but he was certain to maintain his composure so as not to clue her in to his alarm. The odd twitching on her head, and the flicking shape behind her were off, but somehow she still appeared human. A devil fruit’s doing maybe? But how could a kid this young have…He shook his head. The less details he knew, the better. They were probably just going to drop her off somewhere after getting her back to full health anyways, so there was no need to form an attachment.</p><p> </p><p>“Once you get used to it initially, you can slowly build up a tolerance to some of the bigger things. Berger is one of the best cooks in all the blues, so it’ll be a treat when you finally get to eat his specialties. Marcy would have you back in one piece a lot faster if you would let her.” Simon paused at the opening of the cabin doors, revealing Clemens with a small bowl of broth and a box. The kid had flinched when the door opened, but she was much calmer than before and stared intently as Clemens slowly made his way to the duo. He stopped a bit behind Simon, handing the contents over before taking a small glance at the kid before making his way back inside.</p><p> </p><p>“Ring me if you need anything. Kit has bandages in it if you are able to convince her to at least clean up a bit. Ranpa should have extra clothing too when she’s ready.” And with that, he vanished, leaving Simon to confront the kid.</p><p> </p><p>The bowl of broth was pushed out beside him, just far enough that he couldn’t reach, and the first aid kit followed shortly after.</p><p> </p><p>“Here. You’ve got to put at least an ounce of faith in me to get it. I’m not coming over there and it’s far enough that you could dodge if you needed to, not that I’d try anything.” Simon relaxed, waiting for her to make the next move…</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, she padded forward, low to the ground, and watching him for any sign of movement. She picked up the first aid kit, backing up to her position before. Huh, not exactly what he thought she would have gone for first, but thinking about it, it made sense. The food couldn’t be trusted, but bandages didn’t really have a downside.</p><p> </p><p>She set about examining her feet, he noted that they were littered with bruises, cuts, and splinters. She ran barefoot, then. Wrapping her ankles, she sniffed and applied the salve in the kit once she plucked out the splinters and rocks, continuing to wrap her feet. So, she was logical, methodical, smart. He could work with that. Most kids, he hated because they were clingy, loud, and overly emotional, causing more problems than he really wanted to deal with.</p><p> </p><p>“The broth isn’t poisoned or drugged. Here-” He stepped up to it, grabbing it and taking a swig himself before setting it back down in its original place. Of course, the broth probably was spiked with a natural relaxant, courtesy of Marcy, and he could think of at least 5 ways to fake having drank the broth, but she didn’t need to know that. She still looked cautious, but with a desperation and longing she wasn’t able to hide. Poor kid.</p><p> </p><p>With newly bandaged feet, she looked resigned as she went for the broth, bringing the bowl back to where she had set down the first aid kit. Sniffing it a few times, he could see her wipe drool from her chin before tipping the bowl back. She did listen to Simon, though he could tell she didn’t want to, and stopped drinking when she noted she was going too fast. Before long, the bowl was empty and placed beside the kit as she continued wrapping her arms.</p><p> </p><p>Really, they needed to be cleaned so that her wounds didn’t get infected, but Simon couldn’t do anything about that for the time being and figured she was moving at a pace fast enough that eventually she would trust them to at least provide her with the materials to clean herself off.</p><p> </p><p>The sun fell beyond the horizon, crew members occasionally making themselves known to go about their tasks above deck but paying no mind to the new occupant, being sure to steer clear of them as far away as possible. The kid was looking drowsier by the minute, with the relaxant and adrenaline high wearing off. She began glancing at the barrel every so often. Simon, curious, took a peek to find a bundle of cloth still in the tipped over barrel. He figured that with her state, anything dangerous she had wouldn’t really be much of an issue, so he pulled it out and set it down, a little closer to him than he had the bowl and kit. Much quicker, she had hurriedly swiped it from him and stepped back, albeit not as far as before. ‘Good, some progress’ Simon thought.</p><p> </p><p>She rustled through it for a second, seeming to breathe in relief as she found whatever she was looking for, and with a final glance at Simon, laid down to use the bundle as a pillow. Simon’s brow raised. He thought she would have stayed up as long as she could, but apparently was displaying enough trust to get some rest at the very least. Secretly, he was relieved. With her asleep, he could probably get back to his tasks around the ship, and trade out watch with one of the night-watch in order to get some sleep himself.</p><p> </p><p>A thought flitted to his mind. He initially waved it off, but reconsidered when it returned. <i> ‘ a lullaby’</i></p><p> </p><p>Simon was the ship’s musician after all. If him playing got her to relax faster, then wouldn’t it be worth it? Though, his instruments were all in his room and his Kalimba was still in the coat he shed by the rail, so reluctantly, he began humming lowly.</p><p> </p><p>The kid seemed startled, looking at Simon with awe. Flustered, he stopped when her gaze continued.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi, I don’t do this often, so don’t look at me like that and get some sleep already. You need it.” She blinked, looking down in puzzlement before returning to her position before with drooping eyes. Satisfied, Simon continued…</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, this day had been far too eventful for his tastes already. He just wanted to get some damn sleep…</p><p> </p><p>The moon shone high when he was finally relieved of his watch via Clemens. She was sleeping finally, albeit lightly, and he had been sure to be completely silent when he moved back in the cabin. Those ears of hers probably weren’t just for decoration, and he didn’t want to risk waking her in her already fragile state.</p><p> </p><p>After this, Simon figured he would just have to take it day by day. He had already established himself as the one to trust, despite it being troublesome, but he would have to take the job unless he wanted the kid to waste away and his efforts have been for nothing. He may have been a pirate, sure, but he wasn’t heartless after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TL:DR<br/>Clemens: Booze!<br/>Simon: No.<br/>Mercury: *Angry kitten noises*<br/>Simon: *dad mode activated*</p>
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